


Spaces, White Roses, and Mondays

by Numerix



Category: K-pop, TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, squintfornatzu, squintforsaida
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 05:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13381167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Numerix/pseuds/Numerix
Summary: It's all a blur to Momo. The images of white roses and coffee cups were bouncing around in time and space. Perhaps because it was Mina. Or maybe it was just Monday.





	Spaces, White Roses, and Mondays

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little story because I couldn't help myself.
> 
> The idea of the story came from my friend who asked me to help her write a children's story for school.

If there was anything Momo was absolutely sure of, it was that she is undeniably, hopelessly in love with the quiet girl next door. So as hopeless romantics do, she yearned for her best friend; she dreamt to be kissed and touched in places friends would not; she longed to be loved by the girl whose name she half-whisper wishes in empty spaces.

 

So perhaps it was just by luck that some supreme being was on her side because Mina had fallen hard for the hopeless romantic. But the fragility their relationship would bring upon their friendship was a fear both had shared. From then on, when Mina confessed and Momo had kissed her immediately after, they promised to always catch the other in whatever time and space they find themselves in.

 

It was easy with Mina. They filled the roles of girlfriends quickly, not that they weren’t awkward with each other first. In fact, it was quite the opposite. They had spent their first three days together in Mina’s room talking about how their dynamic with each other and the rest of the group would change.

 

When they came out to their group of friends, they were met with cheers and pats on their backs and a collective _finally_. It was when Jeongyeon pointed out how they had practically acted like a couple anyways did they realize that their dynamic will remain the same, it was the titles that would change to correspond with the space that no longer existed between them.

 

Their friend dates turned into “relationship dates” that ended with kisses on their lips and a tug at each other’s hearts; the way they held hands shifted to the natural interlacing of fingers, narrowing any space between their digits; their goodbyes before ending the calls had gradually become _I love yous_ that Momo would never tire of hearing and saying.

 

It was simple.

  
  
 

Momo and Mina spent every day, save for family on weekends, together. They would frequent places in each part of town so much that one day of the week was devoted to said places.

 

Mondays were the cafe a block down from the high school they attended. Mina had suggested it, arguing that she would like to start her weeks with an Americano in her hand and her girlfriend in the other. (“Some sort of beginning,” she said.)

 

Tuesdays were spent at the library in the town square to study whatever test they usually had on Wednesday. Despite the distracting game of footsies under the table, they finished their work and studying with some time to spare. They would retreat to Mina’s house, treating themselves with video games and ice cream.

 

Wednesdays were at the Hirai family restaurant located on the north end of town where Momo was slated to work her weekly shifts. Since Mina would join and help out with the restaurant, the Hirais had offered her the same time slot with Momo with paid benefits. Mina declined but the Hirais were a persistent group that Mina relented and let them pay her. (“Look at my girlfriend being humble,” Momo teased.)

 

Thursdays were at the park on the east side of town; a bench, a lake, and a picnic basket made for perfect outdoor dates. The picnic basket would be set up by Momo from the night before—homemade cooking by Mrs. Hirai and her eager assistant of a daughter.

 

Fridays were at the western part of the town where Jihyo’s house was situated on top of the hill overlooking the town. (Being the mayor’s daughter did have its perks.) The group of five wouldn’t stay for too long; if they did, then they had a closet of their own clothes for the next morning. Momo and Mina would share the bed in one of the guest rooms. (Momo said that she would like to end her weeks with her girlfriend’s hand in hers and Mina’s soft hair played in the other. Mina blushed at the confession before giving her a goodnight kiss and an I love you. “I love you, too,” Momo returned.)

 

Everything was simple.

  
  
 

Both of their schedules got hectic by their last year of high school. Momo started working at the restaurant full time and Mina signed up for several advanced classes. When Momo did have day off from work, Mina would sadly decline her offer as she was studying for the upcoming test that week. And when Mina was done with her studies, she would visit Momo at the restaurant, an apron on her waist and a rose in her hands to apologize.

 

(“White roses are supposed to mean new beginnings. So, will you accept my apology and we start this day over?”

 

Momo could never stay mad with her anyways.)

 

Fridays at Jihyo’s became rarer as well with the five of them embarking on their own paths. The most recent news they had heard from Sana was that she was courting a junior with tofu-like skin. The girls gave her bewildered looks, but Sana laughed it off and promised to introduce her someday.

 

Jeongyeon on the other hand had taken in a freshman under her wing, some artist-track runner hybrid the older girl had seen herself in. “She will continue on my legacy, even if she is half my size,” she declared.

 

“Hey, Chaeyoung’s cute. Don’t you dare break her, Yoo,” Momo scolded.

 

“But that's the great thing about me—if she is anything like me—I'm unbreakable.”

 

“Maybe two Jeongyeons is a little too much,” Jihyo laughed.

 

Turns out Chaeyoung was the bite size version of Jeongyeon which garnered several groans from the group on one of those rare Fridays. Jeongyeon had invited her protégé to “show her the ropes.”

 

Even Sana had come on this particular Friday, smiles and energy radiating more than usual. “Jihyo, Jeongyeon, Momo, Mina, meet my girlfriend Dahyun.”

 

Four mouths dropped. “I thought she was rejecting your advances,” Mina asked in disbelief.

 

“I guess Dahyun really likes me then,” Sana chuckled, her head turned to the smile and sparkling eyes in Dahyun.

 

“Congrats,” the three said.

 

Momo buried her face in the crook of Mina's neckline that night, narrowing the space between as Momo hugged Mina closer and tight her. With tears on her face and cracks in her voice, Momo spoke, “I'm sorry for not catching you.”

 

“You did catch me.”

 

Momo lifted her head up, a smile on her face as she looked at the girl she's loved since their elementary days and the girl she has completely fallen in love with. Momo kissed her girlfriend’s forehead, a vow that she will always be there.

 

They slept that night with the tear in space and time fixed and the thought of fragility gone as they freefall.

 

It was still simple.

  
  
 

A car sped past a red light, its wheels failing to stay within the lines.

 

A girl, obedient as always, waited for the light to signal her to cross—an apron on her waist, a rose in her hands.

  
  
 

Three rings on a Thursday. “Hello?”

 

“It’s Mina.”

 

A dial tone fell on the floor.

  
  
 

The funeral was kept small, only family and close friends. The Myouis cried as the Hirais, also crying, comforted them. The girls tried to keep straight faces for Momo. But from watching her break down the tenth time that week, they could no longer hold back the tears that have been vying to get out.

 

Sana held on to Momo, a hand drawing circles on her backs as she stifled her own cries. Jeongyeon and Jihyo returned with a box of tissues, with Jihyo immediately applying the soft material to dry Momo's face. Jeongyeon's took Momo's hand and squeezed it tight.

 

Tears fell from Momo's eyes, her heart torn into pieces. With a rose in her hands, the petals slowly decaying, she promises to catch her, even if the space is expanding.

 

It used to be so simple.

  
  
 

It started on a Friday. Jihyo called a mandatory Sleepover Friday. Momo cleaned up for the first time that week. She remembered the flower in her case and plucked out three petals.

 

Jeongyeon looked at the petal on the palm of her hands. “Hey, Momo, we love you and all and we appreciate this gift but it’s a petal away from its plant. It’s practically dead.” Jeongyeon’s eyes widened as her hand reached to cover her mouth. Sorrys were what followed, but Momo quickly forgave her before she became a blubbering mess.

 

“Mina always liked white roses. Red ones were her favorite, but white held a special spot in her heart,” Momo explained. “She told me that it reminded her of me—charm and innocence. She used them whenever she felt she had to say sorry.”

 

“So you’re apologizing to Mina?” Jihyo inquired.

 

“In a way. At the same time, I’m leaving her legacy.” Momo knew they were both tired so wasn’t sure if she was making any sense at that point. She continued anyway, “She was with us, in spaces like my family’s restaurant and the cafe. And she was with us, she’s occupied that space in our lives. The rose is a reminder that she’s still there.”

 

“Poetic. Tragic, but poetic.” Sana echoed the words Mina reiterated at least twice a day. “You really love her, don’t you?”

 

Momo nodded, her eyes fixed on the petal. “White roses were the original true love flowers.”

  
  
 

She filled the spaces in an unpredictable manner. Sometimes it took her weeks to visit the venues since her death. But she had a pattern; she was sure that she had a pattern. It was all a matter of mental preparation.

  
  
 

Tuesdays were unavoidable since she had a test the next day. The teacher had told her that she could be excused from it, but Momo insisted that she take it with the rest of the class.

 

Jihyo promised she’d join her at the library. “For support,” she offered.

 

She took two steps, Jihyo within her sight. Her nose was in a book, but she looked up from her position and waved at Momo, her smile still wide as Momo had known it to be.

 

Three more steps, she was past the first bookshelf. By this time, her heart was pounding against her chest, errant from her usual place. She inhaled twice to control the beating.

 

One step, her legs gave out. Her breath loud and erratic in the silence. The walls of her chest were caving in and so were the walls of the library, the space shrinking within her line of sight. She was shaking in fear and anger, and anger at herself.

 

A breath, a cry, a breath, a cry, it was a never-ending cycle for Momo. Everyone’s eyes on her didn’t help other. With her eyes closed, tears on her face, and sweat sliding down her skin, she wished it to be over. She clutched at the petal in her hand, but no talisman could protect her from the harm. She whispered Mina’s name. “She would know how to stop this.”

 

The walls were getting closer. The spotlight was shining brighter. The wails were getting louder.

 

Yet still, her senses were heightened. She could hear every attempt a student made to move away from the uncomfortable scene; she was even sure some had already walked out. But she could also feel a familiar hand on her back making soft, circular motions to calm the panic-ridden girl.

 

With tears ran dry, throat closing up, and breathing regular, she thanks Jihyo for her efforts and joins her at the table. She’s embarrassed about the whole episode, but Jihyo assures her that they understand.

  
  
 

Saturdays and Sundays were reserved for families.

  
  
 

Momo wouldn’t step foot in her family’s restaurant a month after the funeral. But it was where Wednesdays were reserved, so she had to follow through.

 

She resented the place. Mina had planned to go there before her death. She knew it was irrational to hate her own restaurant, but she did. And she hated herself the more for it.

 

“Mina would tell me to stop acting like a child,” Momo told Hana.

 

Hana listened intently to Momo’s stories about Mina. She’d already heard them all since Momo told her everything, but the sparkle in Momo’s eyes were a rare sight, so she let her continue.

 

Just like that, her relationship with the restaurant was mended, a petal in her hand that she asked to be framed on the wall. “I really just needed to stop acting like a child.”

  
  
 

Thursday was harder. Mina had died on a Thursday. “I guess I hate a day, too,” Momo laughed through her tears as she told her friends her plans for said day.

 

Sana asked to come along in case Momo has another panic attack. Momo accepted and suggested that Dahyun come along with them.

 

Sana and Dahyun occupied the blanket near the bench Momo was seated at overlooking the lake. They ate the food Momo had prepared. “I don’t have an appetite these days. But the kimbap is good. Mina always liked how I made them.”

 

The couple could only look at Momo apologetically. It was definitely awkward going on a date with a friend who’s mourning. Not that Sana wasn’t mourning, too. She had different ways to cope and Dahyun had helped her through those six months.

 

She uncrossed her legs and made her way to her best friend. “Mina always liked your kimbap. It’d be wrong if we eat it.” She held out the container, encouraging Momo to take it.

 

Momo was content watching her best friend make her way to her girlfriend. She knows it in her heart that if there was one couple making it through high school, then it would be Sana and Dahyun. She smiled and cried one more time; her tears were starting to get happier, she noticed, a petal in her hand.

  
  
 

“Mondays were new beginnings,” Mina had said. Momo nodded in agreement, though it’s probably the coffee taking over.

 

It made sense: Mondays were new beginnings, but Momo couldn’t help think that Mina was hinting at something else.

  
  
 

Mina had confessed to Momo on a Monday, the 9th of May. Momo learned this five years later.

  
  
 

For the first time in three years, Momo orders an Americano at the cafe down a block from where she used to attend high school.

 

The owner greets her long-time customer. “Welcome back, Momo. We missed you.”

 

“Thank you, Nayeon. How’s Tzuyu?”

 

“She’s okay. I think she’s really softening up to me after six years,” Nayeon jokes.

 

“You’ve been together for six years?”

 

“Yup. Bought this cafe as a wedding gift. Mina suggested it.”

 

Momo looks at her in surprise. “She never mentioned knowing you before you opened up the cafe.”

 

“Not that close. We talked when you were late or too busy. We met the week before my wedding. I was freaking out about what to get Tzuyu,” she laughs at the recollection of being a nervous wreck. “Mina actually came up with the name: Monday’s. She said she just likes the day.”

 

She breathed in the empty space before handing her a petal. “I assume she talked to you about flowers, too.”

 

“White roses were always meant for you.”

 

Everything was simple.

  
 

Momo stands over the headstone with swollen eyes. She hasn’t cried that much since her first attempt to enter the cafe. Space was still an issue for her then. Her claustrophobia getting the best of her.

 

But she’s here now. Her body strong, her mind right. Her spaces clear.

 

“I was never that eloquent during our relationship. I usually let you handle all the quotes. But I guess now is as good as ever.

 

When you left, there was a gaping hole that could never be covered. Then I went to every place we usually went to, and it healed a bit. Those were our spaces.

 

A white petal for every space. God, why did you have to be so damn poetic all the time? And Monday’s at Mondays because we met on a Monday, first dated on a Monday and first kissed on a Monday. Either that’s a coincidence or I’m the most ignorant person on the planet for not thinking my girlfriend would try to attempt fate.”

 

On May 9th, Momo attempts fate: to say goodbye to her first love. Her true love, Myoui Mina.

 

“In spaces, I loved you. In spaces, I lost you. In such empty spaces, I have found you again.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... my friend did not like my idea at all.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Leave some kudos and comments if you liked it.


End file.
